Thanksgiving Turkey Shoot
by trekker26233
Summary: The Luftwaffe is planning to stepup the frequency and intensity of their raids over England by building a new base closer to the coastline and, incidentally, Stalag 13.
1. Chapter 1

CHAPTER 1

Fraulein Helga knocked on the door the Colonel Klink's office. "Colonel Hogan wants to see you, sir."

As usual, Klink was too busy to be bothered, as he shuffled through a pile of paperwork. "Tell him I can't see him right now." But, as usual, Hogan was already in the room.

"Hey, Komandant!" Hogan greeted. "Glad to see you're already getting in that holiday spirit!"

"Hogan, I don't have time for this," replied Klink. "Besides, Christmas is not for another month."

"I'm not talking about Christmas!" Hogan answered, taking a seat on the corner of Klink's desk. "Thanksgiving is coming!"

"Thanks-who?" Klink asked, having never even heard of the American holiday. "What are you talking about? This is another excuse to beg me for an extra ration of butter, isn't it? Well, the answer is 'NO!'"

"It's Thanksgiving!" Hogan repeated. "The American holiday of thankfulness and giving, to celebrate the Pilgrims landing on Plymouth Rock."

"Well, I certainly have nothing to be thankful for," Klink replied, about to bury his nose in his paperwork again. "Least of all your pilgrimages to my office. And get off of my desk!" Klink shook his riding crop at Hogan.

Hogan eased off the desk. "You know Komandant, that is very right of you to believe that. And when the High Command finds out how ungrateful you are, they will send you straight to the Russian Front where you will only have to be thankful for waking up each morning. You think it's cold now? The Russian have an infinitely colder winter! The Reich has a strong army, but even the army is no match for the Russian winter."

Klink shivered unconsciously. "You're right, Hogan," Klink said sarcastically. "I should be thankful that they gave me command of a prison camp."

"Exactly!" Hogan agreed. "And even more than that, you should be thankful for your perfect record. After all, nobody escapes from Stalag 13! By the way, care for a drink?" Hogan asked, as he was already helping himself the Klink's schnapps.

"Sure, I guess," Klink acquiesced. "Hogan, why do I let do that all the time?"

"Because," replied Hogan as he filled a shot glass for Klink, "You're thankful for having me help you around here."

"_You?_" said Klink. "Helping _me?_"

"Absolutely!" Hogan handed Klink the shot. "Remember that time Burkhalter planted a spy here to discredit you?"

"Yes," Klink replied instantly, eying the whiskey in his shot glass.

"And the time," Hogan said, pausing to down his whiskey and refill, "the Gestapo tried to arrest you because they thought you were a spy?"

"Yes, I remember that!" Klink said thoughtfully, remembering how Hogan somehow convinced the Gestapo officers that the spy was in their own office.

"Well," said Hogan, "You should be thankful for that!" And he drained his second glass of schnapps.

"You know, Hogan," said Klink, "You have a very good point. But you are not smart enough to beat a real German mind. You see, I know you are up to something. So whatever your request is, my answer is 'NO!' Now, leave my office at once!"

"You're a very hard man, Komandant," Hogan accused, as he reluctantly shuffled out of the office. As he closed the door behind him, he saw Shultz coming up the steps with a large package. "Hey, Schultz! What's in the package?"

"Colonel Klink ordered a new pillow," said Schultz, "So I am bringing it up to him." Schultz said 'bringing' with extra emphasis on the 'br.'

"A new pillow?" asked Hogan. "Why does Klink need a new pillow?"

Schultz shrugged. "I never asked him." Schultz moved closer to Hogan and whispered, "But he said it was a special kind of pillow—a _feather_ pillow!"

"A _feather_ pillow?" said Hogan. "Wow! I bet he's going to be really comfortable tonight."

"Yeah," Schultz agreed, with a touch of disdain. "And nothing for the guards who do all the _real_ work around here."

"Yeah," Hogan said with genuine sympathy. "I know how it is. The officers get all the good stuff, and the little guys get nothing. By the way," Hogan said, changing the subject, "Happy Thanksgiving!" He patted Schultz on the back, and disappeared down the steps.

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A/N: This is just the beginning. More reviews, more chapters.


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

That cold November evening, all was merry in Barracks Three, where Colonel Hogan and his merry crew were playing a "Thanksgiving"-theme version of Poker…

"I'll start this hand with five," said Colonel Hogan, placing a red poker chip in the middle of the table.

"I'll meet your five and raise it ten," said Kinch, shuffling the bills in his hand and putting three $5 bills in the pot.

"You're bluffin'," said Newkirk. "I think you're bluffin'." He flicked two blue chips into the pot.

"Bah," said LeBeau, picking up a feather from the center of the table, and adding it to his makeshift headband, which already had two feathers. "I fold."

MEANWHILE…

The Komandant of Stalag 13 could not sleep. The reason he could not sleep was that his favorite pillow was missing! Of all things, how could he misplace his _pillow!_ Colonel Klink had searched everywhere, ransacked his quarters, and even phoned Helga at her own residence to see if she had stolen it for whatever reason she might have had:

"_Hello?"_ said Helga, annoyed that she was receiving a phone call at 9:45 PM (GMT +1).

"Hello, Helga, this is Komandant Klink calling. I need to ask you something."

"_Yes, Herr colonel?"_

"I can't find my pillow tonight."

"_Your pillow? How did you lose a pillow?"_

"That's why I'm calling. I wonder if you took my new feather pillow by mistake somehow when you left Stalag 13 today."

"_I certainly wouldn't have it. Sorry, Komandant. Gutennacht,"_ and she hung up.

"'Sorry Komandant.' Humph," Klink muttered. Klink opened his bedroom window and was blasted by the icy wind. "Schultz!" he hollered.

Sergeant Schultz was doing punishment patrol that night, marching around the camp in full uniform and combat pack, after Klink caught him tasting some of LeBeau's strudel. Hearing his name, the obese sergeant brought his rifle to bear and turned to look for the person calling his name, but he did not see anybody. "Who is there?" he asked the wind.

"Dumkauf! Schultz! I'm up here, you fat imbecile!" shouted Klink, watching his guard turn around and around, looking for the voice.

Schultz swung around when he recognized the Kommandant's voice, not realizing he was still aiming his rifle. It was only then that he noticed Klink was hollering from his bedroom window.

"Dumkauf! Put your rifle down and get up here at once! _Schnell!_"

"Jawohl, Herr Komandant!" Boy, was Schultz glad to get inside out of the cold. He ran as fast as his legs could carry his overweight body into the Komandant's quarters.

"Herr Komandant! I am here!" said Schultz. Then he saw Klink. "Colonel Klink, eh, what is the matter?"

"I'll tell you what the matter is, Schultz," Klink growled. "Somebody stole my new feather pillow!"

"No!" Schultz's eyes widened.

"Yes!" Klink hissed. "I want you to search the prisoners' barracks until you find it, or I will make a new pillow with your hide!"

"Jawohl, Herr Komandant!" Schultz waddled as quickly as his bulk would allow, as he rushed out of the room, and into Barracks Three.


	3. Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3

"Hi, Schultz!" said LeBeau, enthusiastically. "If you told me you were coming, I would have made more strudel!"

"No!" Schultz replied. "The komandant made me walk for hours out there, in the cold, because he caught me eating it earlier." Schultz only needed a second to see the card game. "Oh! You're playing cards! Deal me in!"

"All right, Schultzy, have a seat!" Schultz sat down next to Carter, and Newkirk dealt him five cards. After about a minute, Schultz put five D-Marks in the pot.

"Call!" said Newkirk. "That's two for the dealer. Anybody else?"

"Three for me," said Kinchlow.

"I'll have three, too," said Carter.

"Make up your mind, Carter," said LeBeau.

"I'll have," Schultz began, with some hesitation, "Two."

Newkirk dealt everyone their cards, and looked at his hand.

"Ah, phooey," said Carter. "A pair of 4s, a 9, a Jack, and a King." He reached across the table and picked up a feather and inserted it into his headband.

"Full house," said Kinchlow. "Two 3s and three 7s."

"Two pair," said Newkirk, with an odd grin on his face.

"Two Kings and three Queens," said Hogan. "Looks like I win, gentlemen."

"Hold on there, Colonel," said Newkirk. "Let's see what Schultz has."

Schultz leaned over to Newkirk and whispered, "Does this count for anything?" Schultz was holding the Jack of Clubs, the 2 of Clubs, the 9 of Clubs, the 8 of Clubs, and the 10 of Clubs: a Flush with a Baby Straight!

"Holy moly!" said Newkirk. "Schultz is feeling lucky tonight!" Schultz's hand was already on the pot when Newkirk said, "Sorry Schultz, but my hand is better."

"But you said you only have a two pair!" Schultz protested.

"I have a two pair." Newkirk could only just contain his excitement as he revealed his hand: "A pair of red Aces and a pair of black Aces!"

Schultz looked like he was about to throw a temper tantrum. "No! NoNoNoNoNo!"

"Sorry, Schultzy," said Newkirk. "Take a feather."

"But- But I-" Schultz started. "Wait a minute. Did you just say 'take a feather'?"

"That's right, Schultz," said Hogan. "Thanksgiving is coming soon, so we're playing Indian Poker."

"'Indian Poker?'" asked Schultz. "What nonsense is this? Where did you get the feathers?" Schultz stood up from the table and looked at the prisoners. "You are up to something! I can smell it!"

"Sorry about that smell, Schultz," said Carter, in his uniquely innocent way. "It's really cold outside, so we sort of decided to skip taking showers tonight."

"Jolly jokers," Schultz said, raising his voice. "_Where did you get the feathers?_"

"We found them in a sack," LeBeau replied evenly.

"Oh," said Schultz, calming down. "The Komandant is very upset right now. You see, his new feather pillow that he just got today was stolen."

"No!" said Hogan. "His new _feather _pillow?"

"That's right!" said Schultz. "Now, I have to search the barracks and find it or else he doesn't sleep. And when he doesn't sleep, I can't sleep."

"That's all right, Schultz," said Hogan. "We'll help you find it. LeBeau, take Schultz around to the other Barracks and see if you can find the pillow."

As soon as Schultz left with LeBeau, Hogan pulled out the pillowcase, which had been refilled with straw and sewed shut, and placed it on Carter's bunk. And just as quickly, LeBeau came back in, with Schultz in tow. "See Schultz! There it is! I told you we'd find it!"

"Hey! That's my bunk!" Carter protested.

"Carter! You crook!" Schultz gasped. "Colonel Klink will hear all about this!" Schultz harrumphed and wagged his finger at Carter.

FIVE MINUTES LATER...

"Herr Komandant! I... eh..." Schultz wasn't sure how to make his report without making a fatal mistake.

"Well!" The door to Klink's room opened, and the glowering face of Colonel Klink appeared in the doorway. "Where is my pillow?"

"It's right here, Herr Komandant," said Schultz, standing at attention and holding the straw-filled pillow. "Carter stole it."

"Thank you, Schultz." Colonel Klink marched up to Schultz and snatched the pillow. "Good night."

"Good night, Herr Komandant," said Schultz, hoping to make a quick exit.

"Wait a minute!" called Klink as Schultz began to take his leave, "I had a _feather_ _pillow_. _This_ is _not_ a feather pillow. WHERE IS MY PILLOW!?"

"I don't know, Herr Komandant," Schultz stammered, "But I suspect the prisoners stole it! Colonel Hogan and the prisoners were using feathers to play a new kind of card game."

"Dumkauf! Who plays cards with feathers!" Klink shouted, and then paused for a thoughtful moment. "And why are the prisoners playing cards? It is long past lights-out!"

"Colonel Hogan said they were playing 'Indian Poker'," Schultz tried to explain. "That's all I know."

"What nonsense is this!" Klink snarled. "I will put ALL OF THEM in the koola for _a month_ for this!"

"Jawohl, Herr Komandant! That is an excellent idea!" Schultz agreed. "I will round them up in the morning, after I get some sleep."

"And I will put YOU in the koola with them!" Klink finished.

"But Herr Komandant, I have been marching around all day, in the cold," Schultz said wearily. "I found your pillow, and I am too tired to even shout at Private Fritz."

"Oh, very well," Klink grumbled, slinking back into his bedroom and slamming the door.


End file.
